Last weekend was Labor Day weekend, and let me tell you, I labored. Jack was a whiny little punk, probably due to the thousands of molars he was cutting, and needed near-constant entertainment and attention. To make matters even harder, it was rainy, so we couldn't go outside to play as much as we would have liked. Every little thing would set him off, and it was absolutely exhausting.
On Monday, he woke up a full hour and a half earlier than expected from his nap. That was frustrating, as Steve and I didn't get nearly the break we needed. But I was determined to carry on and make the most of it. Steve and I changed clothes, I packed up a mini cooler of drinks and snacks, got out the baby backpack, and was ready to take Jack on a nature walk at a nearby trail. The second we set foot outside the house, it started to rain. Son of a bitch! I had to adjust quickly and pick a much less thrilling option of going to the mall so Jack could hang out at the play area there, visit Build-A-Bear workshop, and other less educational things. Jack proceeded to whine his way through the mall and pitched a fit because we would not let him spend the entire afternoon jumpking up and down in one of the display cribs at Pottery Barn Kids.
By the drive home, we were worn out. Steve begged for an hour off so he wouldn't snap. I was fine with that, but admitted that I was really, really ready to go back to work the next day so I could get a break. Jack handled this stressful situation by wiggling one arm free from his car seat strap and crying about it.
When will these molars be gone? And how will we survive the cabin fever of winter?